


The Time of His Life

by Bofur1



Series: The Songs of Our Hearts [2]
Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-06
Updated: 2013-06-06
Packaged: 2017-12-14 02:43:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/831789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bofur1/pseuds/Bofur1
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bifur still grieves his loss.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Time of His Life

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own the song at the end; it belongs to Mark Schultz.

_When I say I love you, please believe it's true._

_When I say forever, know I'll never leave you._

_When I say goodbye, promise me you won't cry._

_Because the day I'll be saying that would be the day I die._

~Unknown~

 

“Bifur? _KheluzKurdu_?”

Bifur recognized the deep roll of his Khuzdûl name and looked up. Bofur stood above him, looking rather bewildered. However, his cousin’s eyes softened as soon as he saw what was in Bifur’s hands.

“Oh, yes...’tis September 3rd, isn’t it?” Bofur crouched next to him, compassion etched across his features. He studied the illustration on the parchment Bifur held. “She’s a handsome lass,” Bofur said quietly.

Bifur traced the dark lines of the drawing and whispered in a shuddering voice, “ _Âzyungâl_.” Bofur knew enough of his cousin’s tongue to understand what this meant.

“Yes. Yer lover,” he agreed gently.

A heartrending sound escaped Bifur’s throat and he pressed the paper to his chest, closing his eyes against the stinging tears. If he tried hard enough, he could faintly remember.

Bifur had left home when he was young, only eighty-three. He’d gone out to see the world and had instead discovered something—someone—else.

Dwana had been her name and Bifur had known as soon as he’d seen her. She was the one he loved, and would always love. He remembered getting to know her. They would sit on Dwana’s porch and talk about the world and their dreams. Bifur always tried to make her laugh. He loved how she threw back her head of dark ash brown hair and let her joy spill into the air. Her topaz brown eyes would glow like radiant orbs and she would put on the special smile that was just for him.

Bifur recalled watching with wide eyes from the trees as Dwana emerged onto the porch. She’d been surprised to find that, replacing him in his usual place on the porch, was a scroll tied with a golden ribbon. Bifur didn’t know how to write or even read, but he’d scrounged up the coins he’d needed. As he watched, Bifur prayed she wouldn’t scorn the words that had poured from his heart into the scribe’s quill.

Dwana had read the scroll, gasping, and Bifur had been unable to wait any longer. He’d burst from his hiding place, falling to his knees and grasping her hand between his.

“ _Mizimelûh_ ,” he spoke tenderly. “Please, will you—”

“Yes!” Dwana wept. “Yes, yes!”

She’d been gorgeous on her wedding day, adorned in glittering pearls, and her groom had never left her side; Dwana was Bifur’s and no one else’s. There had been such joy that they had shared. Bifur remembered standing with his arms around his princess, smiling at his family, old and new. His mother had fairly shone with pride and Aunt Joniver was crying. Bifur remembered Dwana laughing when they saw even the brown-haired infant, Bofur, in Joniver’s arms beaming at them.

That was all before Dwana was lost.

 

 

* * *

_Wanting her is hard to forget,_

_Loving her is hard to regret,_

_Losing her is hard to accept,_

_But letting go is the most painful._

~Unknown~

 

Bifur pressed his ear to the wooden door of the kitchen, listening carefully.

“It’s been twenty-seven years,” Bifur heard Bombur sigh heavily. “And Bifur still does this antisocial... _thing_...every time September 3 rd comes around.”

“Ye cannae blame him,” Bofur answered sadly. “He obviously adored th’ lass.”

Bombur murmured an agreement, and then said slowly, “But one would think that he’d have healed by now.”

“Bombur,” Bofur sighed. “Do you still miss Ama and Adad?”

“Of course I do.”

“That’s how Bif feels ’bout his lass. It’s one o’ those somethins’ that no amount o’ time will ever heal.”

The brothers startled as Bifur opened the door. As he strode past them Bifur tried to secrete how much Bombur’s insensitive words hurt him. Bombur just couldn’t understand, Bifur told himself. Dwana was his angel, his _mizimelûh_ , and that would never, ever change. Nor would it ever stop torturing him.

Bifur poured himself a mug of strong ale and sat at the table. As he tipped his head back and drained the mug, Bifur allowed himself, just this once, to truly feel the pain of his memories.

 

 

   
 _He packed his bags when he was just 83_  
 _To see a world he thought he'd never seen_  
 _But he knew when he met her_  
 _That she was the girl_  
 _He'd been waiting for_

_And each night they spent talking on the front porch swing_   
_And like it came straight out of a fairy tale scene_   
_But one night she stepped out as the sun began to set_   
_When she got to the porch she found a letter that read_

_You're the only girl I'll ever love_   
_And I'd do anything not to give you up_   
_If I could only stop the world_   
_When you're standing by my side_   
_See I'm having the time of my life_   
_Yes, I'm having the time of my life_

_The months went by it was their wedding day_   
_A church on a hill wedding bells rang away_   
_She looked like a princess_   
_All dressed up in pearls_   
_It was her proudest day_

_And he stood all alone in a darkened church hallway_   
_He got down on his knees and he started to pray_   
_He thanked the Lord for his family and the perfect bride_   
_But he couldn't hold back what he was feelin' inside_   
_And he said_

_She's the only girl I'll ever love_   
_And I'd do anything not to give her up_   
_If I could only stop the world_   
_When she's standing by my side_   
_See, I'm having the time of my life_   
_Yes, I'm having the time of my life_

_Forty years went by and she lived most of Mahal's plan_   
_She stood alone in an attic, wedding dress in her hand_   
_And she held an old letter written so long ago_   
_But she'd never forget it_   
_No matter how old_

_And as she turned to put the dress away_   
_And pack up the years_   
_He was standing in the doorway_   
_With his eyes full of tears_   
_And he held her_

_'Cause you're the only girl I'll ever love_   
_And I'd do anything not to give you up_   
_If I could only stop the world_   
_When you're standing by my side_   
_See I'm having the time of my life_   
_Yes, I'm having the time of my life_

**Author's Note:**

> KheluzKurdu: 'strong heart'  
> Âzyungâl: 'lover'  
> Mizimelûh: 'My jewel of (all) jewels'


End file.
